Kitabı oku: «Mediterranean Tycoons: Tempting & Taken», sayfa 8

Olivia was standing in the hall looking her usual immaculate self in a black dress.

‘Hi, Olivia,’ Kelly said with a polite smile.

‘Smile while you have the chance—you won’t for much longer,’ Olivia sneered, and swept into the dining room in front of Kelly.

A bit of Kelly’s renewed confidence slipped as she walked into the room.

It slipped a lot further over dinner. The conversation was stilted, and Gianfranco sat for the most part in a brooding silence. When Kelly said anything he replied in monosyllables, and she was heartily glad when the meal was over. She made her excuses and was the first to leave the table. There was something about this house, she thought fancifully as she walked out into the gloomy hall, that reeked of dark deeds and hidden passions.

‘Wait, Kelly.’ Gianfranco grasped her arm. ‘Come into the study a minute; we need to talk.’

‘You’ve got that right,’ she said with feeling. ‘What the hell was all that about?’ she demanded, following him into the study.

Gianfranco stopped by the desk and swung around to face her. He looked at Kelly, with her blonde hair falling smooth as silk to her shoulders and her blue eyes fixed on him, looking as innocent as sin! He wanted her as he had never wanted any other woman, but she had to realise as his wife she had certain standards to maintain. He was a very busy man, with an estate and a financial empire to run. He expected his home life to proceed like clockwork, and he didn’t have time to oversee it himself. He should have had this conversation with Kelly weeks ago, but in the time they spent together she knocked every sensible thought out of his head and all he could think of was making love to her. She drove him crazy, probably always would, but it was time he laid down some ground rules.

‘So talk,’ Kelly said, glancing across at her husband, looking magnificently male and moody. ‘I don’t know why you’re being so brooding.’ She gave a little laugh.

His eyes narrowed, not a glimmer of a smile softening his saturnine features. ‘Kelly, as my wife you have a certain position to uphold in the community, and there are certain things that are not acceptable.’

Her smooth brow pleated in a frown; he had to be joking. ‘Like picking my nose?’ she joked, hoping to lighten the atmosphere. But she failed…

CHAPTER EIGHT

IGNORING her attempt at humour, Gianfranco said, ‘It has been brought to my attention that in my absence you were seen in the village on your own in the local bar.’

‘So? I was tired and I stopped for a glass of lemonade.’ She didn’t see his point.

‘Kelly, that is not suitable behaviour for my wife, nor is speeding around the countryside in a car with one of the servants. Could you imagine my mother or Olivia ever doing such a thing? They were horrified when they found out,’ he told her, a grim smile parting his firm lips. ‘I can’t be here all the time, and when I am away I would be obliged if you would try and listen to their advice. Olivia assures me she did try to tell you what was expected of the lady of the house, and warned you more than once about your behaviour. You ignored her.’

His comment was like a red rag to a bull. Now she knew what Olivia had meant earlier about wiping the smile off her face. ‘That is amazing, considering your mother wasn’t here almost the whole time you were away. As for Olivia, apart from calling me a tramp the first night you left, she shot off to Rome the next day. In fact, if it hadn’t been for Anna I wouldn’t have spoken to a soul until your mother came back the day before you.’

He folded his arms across his broad chest. ‘Rubbish.’ His disdainful smile had been replaced by a stern, fixed stare. ‘I told them to look after you.’

Kelly stared at him. ‘You arrogant, conceited, pompous oaf!’ she said, her hands on her hips. ‘If you could hear yourself.’ She shook her head, her blonde hair flying around her face. ‘You sound like you’re lecturing a child.’

‘Not a child, Kelly, but you.’ He gave her a cold smile. ‘And you do have a tendency to act as a child.’

‘Sorry,’ she shot back sarcastically, ‘but you have the tendency to act like God.’

His hands fell to his sides and he leant back against the desk and stuffed them in his pockets. ‘And you have a tendency to, I wouldn’t say lie, exactly, but exaggerate,’ he drawled cynically. ‘I called you every day and you never once mentioned you were alone. Odd, wouldn’t you say?’ One dark brow arched sardonically.

She looked at him; he was standing with his hands in his pockets, tightening the fine wool of his trousers across his thighs. He was a virile, sexy man and she loved him, but she did not have to listen to this.

‘Nowhere near as odd as having a husband who does not believe a word I say,’ she opined bitterly, and, spinning on her heel, she left, with tears blinding her eyes. She’d had such hopes for their reunion, but nothing had changed.

Midnight and Kelly was lying wide-awake in bed, tensely waiting for Gianfranco. She heard the sound of the shower running, then silence. The bedroom door opened and closed. Dry mouthed, her stomach swirling with a mixture of desire and dismay, Kelly watched him through the thick screen of her lashes as he walked towards the bed. He was so splendidly male; his naked olive-skinned body gleamed in the rays of moonlight shining through the window. He was a wonderful lover, but however much she tried to ignore the fact she knew in her heart it was no longer enough. A marriage needed more than sex—like sharing each other’s hopes, and fears, trust. She opened her mouth to say as much when he slipped into bed beside her, only to have it covered with a tender kiss.

‘Sorry, Kelly.’ He gathered her in his arms. ‘Mamma told me you were right; forgive me.’ Quickly divesting her of her nightgown, he gathered her gently in his arms.

Held close against his naked length, she sighed and forgave him. He made love to her with an aching tenderness that brought tears to her eyes. It was only afterwards that doubt reared its ugly head again. Gianfranco believed his mother, believed Olivia, but his wife was another matter entirely. And the thought hurt so much that sleep was a long time coming.

‘Buon giorno, cara.’

Kelly’s eyes fluttered open. Gianfranco was standing by the bed, wearing a grey three-piece suit. He looked exactly what he was, an incredibly handsome, dynamic businessman, but more importantly her husband, and she stretched and smiled up at him.

‘Sorry to wake you, sweetheart, but I am leaving shortly for Rome. It looks as if I will probably have to stay a night or two, and I couldn’t leave without kissing my wife goodbye.’ He sent her a slow, teasing smile that made her heart beat faster in her chest. ‘Miss me and be good. I’ll call tonight.’ Swooping down, he pressed a long, hard kiss on her softly parted lips.

Dazed by his kiss, she didn’t get the chance to object before he had left.

Nothing had really changed, she thought sadly as she wandered aimlessly through the great hall the next morning.

Aldo called her to the telephone. It was Judy Bertoni. Glad to hear a familiar voice, Kelly jumped at the chance when Judy suggested she drive over to Desenzano for lunch and a bit of shopping. Apparently she had opened the house by the lake early, as her father-in-law was ill and the family were staying in Italy to be near him.

Kelly told Carmela where she was going, and, by the time she arrived in Desenzano two hours later, her melancholy mood had lifted a little. Judy greeted her, and seeing the garden where she’d first met Gianfranco, when she’d thought he was a thief, brought a smile to her face.

Driving back towards the Casa Maldini at seven o’clock that night, Kelly was in a much better frame of mind. The trunk of the Mercedes was stuffed full of things for the baby, and a few for herself. She had hardly used the allowance Gianfranco had given her. She only hoped he wasn’t mad at how much she had spent today, with Judy’s encouragement.

The next thing she saw was the headlights of a car coming straight for her. She swerved violently, and stopped. The seatbelt cut into her stomach like a knife, but prevented her from knocking herself out against the windscreen. With her heart pounding she looked around—the other car had gone. Shaking with shock, she felt her brow. Not much of a bump, she consoled herself, but it was some minutes before she stopped trembling enough to drive on.

By the time she reached the Casa Maldini, she felt ill. Getting out of the car, she instructed Aldo to bring in her purchases and went straight upstairs. A visit to the bathroom confirmed her worst fear: she was bleeding.

Carefully she walked back into the bedroom, and Anna was just entering with some packages. Kelly managed to tell her she needed the doctor, and in seconds Carmela was there and helping her undress and get into bed.

The next few hours were a nightmare. Dr Credo arrived, and after a thorough investigation decided Kelly should stay where she was. The baby appeared to be safe, but he was not taking any chances. Bedrest for at least the next week, and he would check every morning.

‘Idiota, must you always be such an impulsive fool?’ Gianfranco’s voice woke her from a shallow sleep.

She opened her eyes and looked up to see him standing by the bed. He was wearing a dark suit, a white silk shirt open at the throat, a tie hanging loose around his neck. His black hair was rumpled, and his dark eyes were shooting sparks.

‘You’re back,’ she said inanely.

‘Back? Of course I’m back. I left a room full of people in the middle of some crucial negotiations and hired a helicopter. What do you expect when I am told you drive the car almost in a ditch and nearly kill yourself and the baby? Are you mad or just plain stupid? What on earth possessed you to drive to Desenzano after Olivia told you not to? Do you have a death wish or something?’ Staccato-voiced, like a machine-gun firing, he let rip with the questions.

‘And hello to you, too,’ Kelly murmured, closing her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall. Olivia again! Why wasn’t she surprised? But this time she was not about to argue; she needed all her strength for her baby. She was finally accepting that Gianfranco had about as much sensitivity as a rhinoceros—he was raving at her like a lunatic when she could have done with some tender loving care.

‘Damn it, look at me when I am talking to you.’

Kelly, clutching the coverlet with two hands over her chest, opened eyes awash with tears and looked up.

Gianfranco stilled, his face turning grey beneath the tan. What in God’s name was he doing yelling at her? She looked shocked and she was crying. He had never seen Kelly cry and it broke his heart. ‘Kelly,’ he began in a voice that shook.

‘What on earth is going on in here?’ Carmela walked into the bedroom. ‘Really, Gianfranco, you’re shouting so loud the servants can hear you.’ With a furious glance at her son she sat down on the side of the bed and, brushing Kelly’s hair from her brow with an elegant beringed hand, added, ‘Take no notice of him, child, he doesn’t know what he is saying.’

Kelly was so stunned by her mother-in-law’s intervention that she couldn’t say a word.

‘You go to sleep, as the doctor ordered, and don’t worry—you and the baby are going to be fine.’ Then, turning blistering eyes back to her son, she got to her feet and pushed his arm. ‘As for you, go and get a drink and calm down.’

Gianfranco hesitated for a second, his night-black eyes seeking Kelly’s, but she avoided his gaze, and, spinning on his heel, he left the room.

Kelly’s whole attitude changed overnight. The shock of the accident and the realisation that, but for the grace of God, it could have been much worse and she might have lost the baby filled her mind to the exclusion of everything else. When Gianfranco walked in the next morning she listened to his apology for yelling; she even half-believed him when he said it had been because he was so terrified of losing her it had made him angry. But she refused to get excited. The doctor had said no excitement, no stress, and plenty of bedrest.

When he took her in his arms and kissed her she responded as usual, but with a slight indefinable restraint. When he told her the doctor had said no sex until after the baby was born she accepted it, and when he suggested he sleep in the other bedroom, so as not to disturb her, she accepted that as well.

A kind of lethargy enfolded her, all she wanted to do was rest and take care of her child. Gianfranco was kindness itself. He took her out to dinner with friends, and he was solicitous of her welfare. That was when she saw him. His business kept him in Rome, and a trip to Australia to check out a vineyard there took up most of his time. Olivia’s sly comments no longer bothered her—her baby was more important than the petty jealousies of a widowed sister-in-law, Kelly told herself.

When she called Gianfranco in Rome one night, and Olivia answered the telephone, Kelly listened as Gianfranco explained without being asked that Olivia was there to shop, so naturally she was staying in the family apartment. Kelly responded with, ‘Yes, of course.’ Her only interest was her baby.

It was Easter weekend that finally broke her out of her lethargy. The sun was shining, spring had arrived and, eight months pregnant, Kelly finally slipped on the white and rose muslin dress Carmela had bought her. A wry smile curved her lips when she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. It seemed an age ago when she had complained about it, but now it actually looked quite good, because she filled it.

‘Cara. Are you ready?’ Gianfranco walked into the bedroom, and stopped.

Kelly was standing by the mirror, smiling, and he didn’t think he had ever seen her looking more beautiful. She was wearing a white and pink loose-fitting dress with a wide floppy collar, with her long silver-gilt hair falling way past her shoulders. She reminded him of a Gainsborough painting, and he had to stuff his hand in his pocket to control the instant tightening in his groin. He hadn’t dared sleep with her because he did not trust himself not to make love to her. Instead he was working like the devil, so when the time came he would be able to take a long break with his wife and child. Only one more month, and then another few weeks and she would be his again.

Telling himself to get his mind above his waist, he walked across and took her arm. Kelly smiled up at him, and he dropped a brief kiss on her lips—the most he dared to allow himself. ‘Come on, I’ll take you down to dinner.’

With Gianfranco’s arm around her Kelly relaxed into the hard warmth of his body, feeling once more the familiar rush of happiness his touch evoked.

When he stroked her stomach with his free hand, and bent his dark head towards her and said huskily, ‘Not long now; I can hardly wait,’ she actually trembled slightly, and felt loved.

Dinner was pleasant. Carmela even complimented Kelly on her appearance. Given that she had chosen the dress, it was a bit of a back-handed compliment, but it raised Kelly’s spirits anyway. It was over coffee the bomb dropped…

Carmela started it. ‘All of Rome society attends. We always go as a family, and stay the night. It is the biggest charity gala of the year. Probably because after the restrictions of Lent are over everyone wants to celebrate.’

‘Sounds good.’ Kelly grinned; she felt better than she had in months. ‘I can’t wait.’

She listened as Gianfranco explained he had to attend it, as it was expected of him, and all the reasons why Kelly could not. It was too far to travel in her condition—they couldn’t take any chances with the baby. They would only be gone the one night, and Anna and all the staff had strict instructions to look after her.

He had to be joking! Kelly thought. Next weekend, of all weekends! It was her birthday on the Saturday!

Olivia smiled at Gianfranco. ‘If Kelly is worried about being on her own, I don’t mind missing the gala and staying with her.’

‘That’s very generous of you,’ Gianfranco said with a beaming smile for Olivia. ‘But not necessary—is it, Kelly?’ he asked, his dark eyes capturing Kelly’s.

‘No. I’ll be perfectly all right with Anna.’ At least Anna genuinely seemed to like her. She was no longer sure of any of her dinner companions…

It suddenly hit her that for the past few months she had been married to Gianfranco her lifestyle had changed dramatically; with a few exceptions she had agreed to everything he wanted, so unsure was she of her position as his wife. He, on the other hand, had made no compromise whatsoever in his lifestyle. His trips abroad, his frequent stays in Rome… In a flash of blinding clarity she saw it all, and did not like what she had become. Bit by bit, her confidence in herself as a woman had been chipped away. Without a murmur she’d accepted separate bedrooms, because he said it would be better for her. How often in the night had she awakened, alone in the huge bed, full of fear at the enormity of giving birth? She would have liked the comfort and protection of Gianfranco’s arms around her. It didn’t have to be sex…

She recalled how insatiable he had been when they were first married. He was a very virile man with a great sex drive. What had Judy said? ‘He is not the type for deep emotional commitment…don’t let him out of your sight.’ Perhaps she should have listened…

Kelly sat up straighter in the hard-backed dining chair; seated at Gianfranco’s right, she flicked a look at his chiselled profile—darkly masculine and supremely confident. He also looked tired. Perhaps he had been unfaithful. How would she know, stuck in the country? All her doubts suddenly resurfaced in her head.

‘You’re sure?’ Gianfranco said quickly, his black eyes narrowing on her pale face with an intensity that seemed to want to read her mind.

Kelly forced a smile to her stiff lips. ‘Positive.’ She placed her hand over his on the table. ‘Now, if you will excuse me.’ She squeezed his hand before letting go. ‘I’m rather tired.’ Pushing back her chair, she flinched as Gianfranco leapt immediately to his feet and took her arm, helping her up.

She needed breathing space, time to marshal her thoughts, but Gianfranco insisted on taking her to her room and helping her undress. She saw the desire flare in his dark eyes as he lifted her nightgown over her head and smoothed it down over her shoulders, his large hand lingering tenderly on her stomach.

Over the past few weeks she had deliberately suppressed the memories of what it felt like to be in his arms, wild with passion, her whole being centred on him, drowning in desire. Now, at the worst possible moment, heat flooded through her, and she trembled. She wanted to be angry with him, but she couldn’t. He would remember her birthday, Kelly told herself; even he could not be that insensitive. She was worrying over nothing.

‘I know, I know, Kelly,’ Gianfranco murmured, and took her in his arms and kissed her long and gently, his dark eyes narrowed intently on her face. ‘But it won’t be for much longer.’ A rueful smile twisted his firm lips, and, taking her hand, he pressed it hard against his aroused flesh. ‘It is a lot worse for me, I can assure you.’ He groaned. ‘But as soon as we can I am going to take you away for a long holiday.’

He wanted her and he loved her—he must do, because she couldn’t bear it if he didn’t. ‘There is no need for us both to suffer,’ she whispered, her slender fingers deftly unfastening his trousers.

‘No. No. It’s not fair. I can do nothing for you; the doctor was quite explicit.’

Kelly simply smiled, her heart racing, and very soon Gianfranco was saying, ‘Yes. Yes.’

Kelly slept soundly that night, totally reassured Gianfranco did love her, and she went on thinking it until she watched the Mercedes vanish out of sight early the next Saturday morning.

Tears filled her eyes as she made her way back upstairs to her bedroom and, curling up in a ball on the bed, she let them fall. Today was her birthday, and she had been so sure Gianfranco would remember, stay with her. In her mind it had become a crucial test of his commitment. She had been wrong…

The house was full of servants and yet she had never felt so totally and utterly alone in her whole life. She cried, great racking sobs that shook her whole body; she wept until she had no tears left. It was a nagging pain in her lower back some time later that finally forced her to sit up on the bed. Kelly rubbed her tear-swollen eyes; wallowing in self-pity was no good, for her or the baby.

At ten o’clock the same night Kelly could delay no longer. The pains had started mid-afternoon but she had rested and eaten dinner and tried to pretend it wasn’t happening. It was too soon…

Aldo drove her to the hospital in Verona, and Anna accompanied her. Kelly was grateful for her help. Anna held her hand and reassured her when the pain was almost unbearable, and at five to one in the morning Kelly gave birth to a healthy baby girl with a striking mop of ginger hair. In the euphoria of holding her baby in her arms, she could forgive for a moment the fact Gianfranco had not been with her when she needed him. And in the next hour she forgot about everything as the doctor and nurse fussed over her.

The sound of hushed voices wakened Kelly, and her eyes fluttered open. Groggily she glanced around. She was in a private room, and then immediately she remembered, her gaze flying to the side of the bed and the crib.

Gianfranco, tall, dark and incredibly handsome, was at the foot of the crib, still dressed in the formal dinner suit he had obviously worn for the charity gala. His chiselled features looked oddly severe. His mother was standing beside him, but his whole concentration was fixed on the baby.

He was here at last, Kelly thought, her heart swelling with love and pride, and was about to speak to let him know she was awake.

‘It’s ginger.’ He glanced at his mother, an expression of complete amazement on his handsome face, and then back to the baby.

Kelly heard him, and something in her rebelled. ‘She is a girl, not an it,’ she murmured, hauling herself up into a sitting position.

‘Kelly, Kelly, mia cara.’ Gianfranco dashed to her side, and his dark eyes, blazing with emotion, caught and held hers.

‘Kelly, she is beautiful; a perfect little girl. Thank you, thank you. I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am I wasn’t here.’ Sitting down on the side of the bed, he cupped her face in his strong hands and scattered dozens of frantic kisses on her eyes, her brow, her nose, and finally he covered her mouth.

A slight cough broke them apart. Carmela said, ‘Congratulations, Kelly! She is perfect, and now I think I should leave you three alone to get used to being a family.’ And to Kelly’s surprise she actually bent down and kissed her cheek before departing.

‘You don’t mind she is not a boy?’ Kelly asked Gianfranco as he got up and went back to the crib, staring at his child as if he had never seen a baby before.

He turned his dark eyes gleaming with pride. ‘Of course not, cara.’ His firm lips turned back against brilliant white teeth in the most magnificent smile Kelly had ever seen. ‘The next one will probably be a boy.’ His comment gave Kelly pause for thought, but then the doctor arrived.

‘So how is the new mother now?’ Dr Credo asked jovially, standing by the bed. Taking Kelly’s wrist in his hand, he took her pulse.

‘Fine.’ She smiled up at him while the nurse deftly slipped another pillow behind her back.

‘Good. You gave us a bit of a scare earlier. Three weeks early—well, one week early really, as two weeks either side of the given date is acceptable. But I am happy to say the baby is perfect. You, on the other hand, are going to have to take care. You haemorrhaged a little after the birth, so we are going to keep you here for a week.’ Letting go of her wrist, he turned and took Gianfranco’s arm and led him to the far side of the room, talking softly.

Kelly heard the raised voice of her husband and glanced across at him. He was standing, broad shoulders taut, his hands curled into fists at his sides, his face grey beneath the tan, the strong features rigid with some intolerable emotion. His dark gaze moved back to her face, his eyes widening as though he had suddenly realised some great truth. He was a father, and the thought crossed her mind that he did not look particularly ecstatic, more shell-shocked, but she didn’t care, as the nurse handed her her baby.

She gazed down in awe at the beautiful, tiny face, the shock of bright red hair, and she was filled with an overwhelming love. She hugged the child to her breast, and pressed the lightest of kisses to the baby’s cheek. ‘Anna,’ she whispered. Then, with the assistance of the nurse, the baby was suckling at her breast.

When the doctor and nurse left, Gianfranco slowly returned to the bedside, his dark eyes narrowing intently. A lump rose in his throat; his lids came down over tear-filled dark eyes, hiding his thoughts.

‘Look, Gianfranco, she’s feeding,’ Kelly murmured, wanting to share the magic moment. ‘Isn’t she gorgeous?’

He lifted his lashes, making no attempt to hide the moisture in his eyes. ‘Yes, you both are,’ he said huskily, and, sinking down on the bed beside Kelly, he reached out a finger and gently traced the curve of the baby’s cheek, the curve of Kelly’s breast.

He watched mother and child, and silently thanked God for their safety. No thanks to him, he thought, for once in his life completely humbled. The information Dr Credo had revealed to him had shocked him to his soul. He had never known Kelly’s mother had died in childbirth, but then he had never asked, he castigated himself. Dr Credo had said she did not like talking about it. Apparently he had contacted her own doctor in England for her notes, and that was how he knew. He had assured Gianfranco it was not genetic. But it didn’t make Gianfranco feel any better.

‘Do you want to hold her?’ Kelly asked, pulling the soft cotton of her gown back over her luscious breast. She lifted her head, her eyes, glowing like sapphires, brimming with happiness, seeking his. She chuckled at the flicker of fear she saw in the dark depths that met hers.

‘Come on, she won’t bite,’ she said simply. Nothing could spoil her delight in her child, and she watched as Gianfranco very carefully took the child from her arms.

They looked good together: the broad-shouldered dark-haired father cuddling the infant in his strong arms, a totally besotted look on his handsome face as he stared down at the baby.

‘She has my father’s hair, but she definitely has your eyes,’ Kelly bubbled on. ‘I thought we might call her Anna Louise. You picked Alfredo for a boy and said I could choose if it was a girl. So what do you think? Anna after Anna, who has been a good friend to me, and was such a help last night, and Louise after my mother.’

‘Anna Louise is perfect,’ Gianfranco said quietly. He could hardly object to his child being named after a servant when the said servant was the only friend Kelly had made in their brief marriage. He had been partying the night away when Kelly had needed him. In all his thirty-one years he had never felt so inadequate—a new experience for him. But he made a silent vow that from now on his first priority was his wife and child.

The nurse entered and took the infant from Gianfranco and placed her in the crib.

‘Rest, Signora Maldini,’ she said, and, turning back to Kelly, gently eased out a pillow to allow Kelly to lie back down in the bed.

‘Yes,’ Kelly sighed. ‘I am rather tired.’ Her long lashes fluttered down. She smiled as she felt the soft brush of Gianfranco’s mouth against her own. ‘Nice,’ she murmured, and slept.

When Kelly awoke three hours later the first of the flowers were delivered, and by evening the nurse complained they were running out of vases. From Gianfranco came dozens of red roses; the card read simply ‘Thank you, my love’ and his name. From the staff, from friends…half from people Kelly didn’t know. But the headily scented blooms that filled the air completely eclipsed the faint hospital smell.

It was the best week of her life. Gianfranco visited morning and night, and he presented her with an exquisite diamond bracelet. For our daughter, he had said, and kissed her. He brought Anna with him one morning, which delighted Kelly, and on another Olivia, which did not. When Gianfranco was talking to the nurse Olivia got her dig in. ‘You couldn’t even do this right—we wanted a boy.’

Kelly ignored her; she was so happy. Judy Bertoni arrived, and let drop she was pregnant again, and the two girls arranged, with Gianfranco’s tacit agreement, to spend a few days’ shopping when the baby was a bit older.

Apart from the doctor, all the staff spoke only Italian, and much to Kelly’s satisfaction her own Italian had improved dramatically, thanks to her tapes.

The following Saturday it was mid-morning when Gianfranco strolled in. Casually dressed in beige trousers and shirt, with a lambswool sweater draped across his broad shoulders, he looked sensational.

‘Ready to go, Kelly?’ Gianfranco asked in a deep, husky drawl.

‘Yes.’ She rose to her feet; something warm quivered deep down inside her as her eyes collided with deep dark brown. ‘Though I don’t know about this dress,’ she said, suddenly nervous. It was one Judy had brought in for her, a mint-green wild-silk sheath buttoned down the front from the slightly scooped neck to the hem. Good for feeding, Judy had said. But to Kelly it seemed a little short and a lot clingy under Gianfranco’s discerning gaze.